In their song No Shelter – which ironically featured on the soundtrack of Godzilla – Rage Against the Machine deconstructed the role of mainstream, blockbuster cinema in the Western world of hyper-capitalism. The band characterised the product as being “ill drama” a term that is an incredibly apt summary of the twenty-four years worth of Hollywood cinema churned out since that song’s initial release. Yet remarkably, 2022’s The Gray Man takes viewers to a deeper level; no longer are audiences scraping from the bottom of the barrel, it is now subterranean. Not even the big-screen return of Ryan Gosling can salvage anything from this technically sub-standard bore as bland as its title.
Allegedly abusing workers, proposing the introduction of adverts to its platform and haemorrhaging subscribers, 2022 has been some year for the Red & Black branded streamer. In fact, it’d seem Netflix’s only constant recently has been the production of shoddy “content”, which is frankly the only way to describe the streamer’s output as they continue on this warpath against the art of the medium.
Seemingly cast off via the back door by those in charge of Marvel, the Russo Brothers have toured the streaming world since their co-direction of Avengers: Endgame. The Cleveland-born siblings first flirted with Netflix by way of Extraction; Joe Russo writing as the two produced the Chris Hemsworth-fronted franchise cornerstone, its sequel now slated for a 2023 release. The duo then directed the disasterpiece that was Cherry for Apple TV+ before remarkably being granted another chance in the power seat with this, the big-budget adaptation of Mark Greaney’s novel of the same name.
Overlong, vain and vacuous, The Gray Man is most definitely a film by the Russo’s. A threadbare plot that’s merely a launching pad to bounce viewers from indecipherable set-piece to indecipherable set-piece, it raises the question, when will audiences stop tolerating such technically poor dross? The Disney-brand cancer of infinity has spread, the desire for ever-long franchises now defaults across the film industry and one can only hope that the relief of the end is on the horizon, though that’s incredibly unlikely given that both a Gosling-fronted sequel and a related spin-off are now in development following the apparent runaway success of this effort.
Moving from abstract points into the tangibles of the film itself, there is not a single redeeming factor among the train wreck, or perhaps more fittingly, tram wreck, that is The Gray Man. Most insufferable feature of all is the film’s tone – be that visually or more broadly speaking. Opening with an assassination sequence in a neon-lit nightclub on New Year’s Eve, punctuated by numerous greyish set-pieces and culminating in a hazy Chris Evans vs Gosling showdown, the film is badly structured as is, the breakneck shift in visual styles only further exacerbates the fractured nature of the piece.
Filmmaking has been heavily impacted by the style of the MCU beyond just the business side, and traits of that identity are (unsurprisingly) prevalent in The Gray Man. Immersion-breaking quips are constantly spouted by Evans and Joe Russo obnoxiously inserts himself into the film, starring as “CIA DDO Fine” before the credits roll. The brothers’ title, Captain America: The Winter Solider is perennially over-praised as being some sort of “espionage thriller” masterpiece, in reality, it is the slightest of deviations from the most generic of formulas, and is in effect strike one. Cherry fluffs its landing, strike two, and this is the last of the tally. The Gray Man wants, so badly, to be a Jason Bourne film but the direction prevents it from doing so. The Snowman flopped for many reasons, the overly-serious tone being one of those. The Gray Man fails because of the exact opposite, its silliness never allows it to establish a tonal baseline that’s befitting of the genre it supposedly belongs to.
Frequently, the term “technically poor” – or some variation on it – can be layered on this movie. Such a characterisation fails to do justice to the horrific quality of editing on display. A day spent entirely consuming TikTok’s would involve fewer cuts and the rapid nature of The Gray Man’s editing constantly undermines the film at each turn. Its action choreography is shoddy and the cutting does nothing to compensate for that, so on-the-nose it disrupts all flow while going on to break fundamentals such as visual continuity countless times, it genuinely becomes difficult to watch – frankly laughable from a film that cost in excess of $200 million USD.
Boasting a decent cast, it’s a shame to report that otherwise credible stars are dragged down by this shambles. Frontman Gosling is the sole survivor of this abomination, and that’s only by good fortune. Essentially a reprisal of his role as “Driver” in Drive and fusing that with the charming elements of his demonstrated celebrity, the one-time darling of independent cinema shows he’s a capable, marauding action star – even if the film’s confusing characterisation of “Six” often works against itself. His on-screen nemesis is Chris Evans’ realisation of Lloyd Hansen. Billed in marketing materials and even the opening as an unstoppable, morally void killing force, Hansen’s characterisation is arguably even more confused than that of Gosling’s role – the constant quips read as unintentionally camp and entirely undercut both Evans’ presence and his half-hearted efforts in the role.
Outside the comfort of the blandness provided by the role of Captain America, Chris Evans’ acting career has been incredibly revealing. The ex-Marvel poster boy’s obnoxious schtick wore thin in Knives Out – a film where its entire point was that the rogue’s gallery is insufferable, and it sticks out like a sore thumb here in this, a sleek world of Black Ops and off-the-record activity. With an almost amateurish reek to his performance, his appearances constantly break the immersion, one of the most significant factors in The Gray Man’s failings.Its treatment of the supporting cast is also a travesty. Billy Bob Thornton is impressive, something which comes from left field. The surrogate father figure of “Six”, Thornton is The Gray Man’s closest semblance of an emotional core; only he is sidelined and wheeled out infrequently, something which stifles the impact of his work.
Equally as big in name is Ana de Armas and recent breakout Regé-Jean Page, neither of who are allowed to make a dent in the film; demonstrating good on-screen chemistry in their few scenes together. The duo are squandered as a counterbalance to the mismatch of Evans and Gosling, leaving viewers pondering what could’ve been. Another entry into a long, long line of massively backed yet entirely forgettable blockbusters, The Gray Man is merely the beginning of a promised “universe” – and it’s far from the steadiest of cornerstones that Netflix could’ve hoped for.
